


almost heaven

by mcwho



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Halloween, M/M, Sam has had enough, Slice of Life, if you dont celebrate every single holiday with passion and vim you're a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcwho/pseuds/mcwho
Summary: The house is covered in Halloween decorations, top to bottom. Bucky is what some might call a festivity whore. By ‘some’, he mainly means Sam. Bucky prefers to think of himself as enthusiastic. If there’s an occasion coming up, and stores are selling decorations to commemorate it, well, a thorough celebration is only respectful.





	almost heaven

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i know halloween was 3 weeks ago, but i cannot rest until i have posted a fic about it so here you go

The house is covered in Halloween decorations, top to bottom. Bucky is what some might call a festivity whore. By ‘some’, he mainly means Sam. Bucky prefers to think of himself as enthusiastic. If there’s an occasion coming up, and stores are selling decorations to commemorate it, well, a thorough celebration is only respectful.

Plus, he now has the best decorations in their entire neighborhood by a long shot, so. Sam can suck it.

“I think we overdid it,” Steve says, looking around at the faux-cobwebs hanging from every doorway and window.

“You think?” Sam asks, eyeing the skeleton hanging from the ceiling, rigged to drop down to eye-level whenever someone walks by and triggers the motion sensor. Steve still worries aloud sometimes that one day Bucky will forget it’s up there and it’ll come swinging down, doing it's mechanical evil cackle and trigger Bucky's PTSD. Bucky thinks it’s cute that Steve thinks Bucky doesn’t map out every step he takes before he takes it, and knows the exact meter by meter area that if stepped into, will cause the thing to drop. And anyway, Bucky fucking loves that skeleton.

“We didn’t overdo it,” Bucky tells them both, pouring the last of the KitKats into the huge bowl he got specifically for this occasion. “You two are just boring. Get your feet off my coffee table, Wilson.”

“Okay, mom,” Sam says, getting his feet off the table.

Bucky flips him off.

They moved out of the Tower a few months ago, into a house in the suburbs. It wasn’t small by any standards, but it was nowhere near the terrifyingly huge monstrosity of the Tower. It felt more like a home. There was a little community around them now, parents who’d dropped in on them while they were moving in to welcome them and give them pies as gifts. Bucky wouldn’t eat them, nor would he let Steve touch them, but the thought was very nice. 

Bucky has vague memories of trick or treating. Back in the Depression, they mostly just called it begging, but he guesses kids just do it for fun now. It’s mid-afternoon, and he figures the doorbell will start ringing around when it starts to get dark. He sets the bowl of candy on the table by the door and then slumps onto the sofa.

“Find us a movie yet, or are you too busy running your mouth?” Bucky asks. 

“Too busy running my mouth,” Sam tells him, settling on some slasher flick. Bucky melds himself to Steve’s side and criticizes the unnecessary mess created by choosing to kill people with an axe of all weapons, before the doorbell rings for the first time.

Bucky practically hops off the sofa in his haste to get it. 

“You know,” Sam says, in that tone that he gets when he’s about to say something that will doubtless make Bucky feel like kicking him out of his home. “I had no idea you were so hot for the suburban life. Your dirty talk must be insane. Do you two whisper to each other about how much you want to power-wash each other’s patios?”

“Sometimes,” Steve says breezily. “Usually it’s just bondage, with garden supplies. Buck’s _unbelievable_ with a pair of pliers–”

Bucky opens the door and is greeted by a host of about five children screaming “trick or treat”. The smile that lifts Bucky’s cheeks is instant and uncontrollable. 

“Hi,” he greets them all. “What are you dressed up as?” 

“I’m Cinderella,” the girl in the front that Bucky identifies as their leader announces immediately, baring her few remaining teeth.

“Some candy, your Highness?” Bucky asks, proffering the bowl. She takes two huge handfuls, grinning even wider.

“ _Told you they’d have the full-sizes_ ,” the brunette in the back mutters to her friend. Bucky’s a little smug about that. Good decorations translate to good candy, everybody knows that.

By the time everyone’s had a dip in the bowl, it’s practically empty. Bucky goes into the kitchen to refill it, waving goodbye and shutting the door. 

“The candy all gone already?” Steve calls from the sofa. 

“They took a lot,” Bucky says, shrugging. “Who am I to deny them?” 

“You’re meant to put it into their bags _for_ them,” Steve says. “If you just let them have at it like that, they’ll eat us out of house and home.” 

“I’m not rationing anyone’s food, Steve,” Bucky says firmly, opening a bag of Snickers and tipping them into the candy bowl. “This ain't the '30s. Besides, we’ve got more than enough." 

“Forgot you were such a pushover,” Steve teases. 

“I’m great with kids,” Bucky says. “I practically raised Natasha, you know.” 

“Not the best point of reference.” 

“Have you seen her hand-to-hand combat?” Bucky asks. “I did amazing. It’s a great point of reference.” 

“What is my life,” Sam mutters from the other end of the sofa. Bucky grins at him. 

“And what I can do with the pliers is _nothing_ compared to what Stevie here gets up to with a pair of clothes pegs and some rope–” 

“Okay, don’t want to hear it,” Sam yells. Bucky smirks in satisfaction. He will _die_ before he lets Sam Wilson ever beat him at a game of embarrassment chicken. 

The doorbell rings again, and Bucky picks up the bowl of candy and goes for it. It’s Tyler from across the street, dressed in a very familiar color pattern. 

“Trick or treat,” he roars. Tyler's always cranked up to eleven. 

“You have to tell me who you are first,” Bucky says. 

“Captain America!” he yells, waving his thin cardboard shield in Bucky’s face. 

“Okay buddy,” Bucky tells him, holding the candy bowl out for him. “Best Captain America costume I’ve ever seen, including the original, I’ll tell you that much.” 

“You think so?” Tyler asks eagerly. 

“Know so,” Bucky tells him. 

Steve slinks up behind Bucky for his cameo. 

“Hey, pal,” Steve grins as the kid stuffs his bag to his hearts content. “You keeping the streets safe for me tonight?" 

“I promise,” Tyler says solemnly, starry-eyed. 

“’Atta boy,” Steve says, holding his hand up for a high-five. Tyler smacks his palm against his, takes one last Hershey bar, and then waves goodbye to the both of them. 

Steve doesn’t so much mind the hero worship when it comes from the kids – he plays up to it, even, much like a mall Santa would to keep the dreams and imagination of the youth alive. 

Bucky finds it extremely endearing. 

He shuts the door and plants one on Steve almost immediately. Steve stumbles back because Bucky practically throws himself at him, but he recovers from it easily, hands on Bucky’s waist, deepening the kiss. 

“Ugh,” Sam groans. “Get a garden.” 

Bucky turns his head to blow a raspberry at Sam, then laughs, breathy, when Steve refuses to let him pull away otherwise, grip on his waist tightening. 

“We’re gonna get more trick-or-treaters,” Bucky says, even as he stares openly at Steve’s kiss-red lips. “Need to be down here to get the door.” 

“What am I, chopped liver?” Sam mumbles absently, not looking up. 

Bucky looks at Steve some more, then at the staircase, and then grabs the candy bowl, shoving it at Sam. “You need to keep refilling it, make sure you get a good mix in there, don’t be lazy about it.” 

Sam looks up in alarm as he realizes what is happening. “No,” he says. “No, I was joking, you are _not_ fucking while I wait down here for you to finish, God, I’ll _know_ what you’re doing–” 

“Wouldn’t want you to feel like chopped liver,” Bucky tells him, pulling a practically giggling Steve out of the room. “We’ll be back in like fifteen minutes anyway.” Sam gives a wordless groan of despair as they leave. 

“Only fifteen?” Steve asks. Bucky looks at him mirthlessly. Steve takes a moment to consider, and then nods in concession. “Yeah, fifteen sounds about right.” 

"Happy Halloween," Bucky grins, tugging him up the stairs. 

**Author's Note:**

> domesticity gets em going what can i say


End file.
